in my dreams I encountered an unknown, somewhat solid substance known only as “Mouse Milk,” and was so vexed by its identity that the mystery has followed me into the waking hours
things I know to be true about mouse milk:
*I typically encountered it in solid, fist sized lumps, wrapped in aluminum foil. Through the foil it felt soft, giving like soft wax *For this reason, I know it to not literally be milk, of any sort. it was also not talked about as though its name was strictly literal *It was not common, (and my dream self had not heard of it previously), but not so uncommon as to be laboriously difficult to find, nor prohibitively expensive
things I believe to be true about mouse milk but am unsure of:
*It is pale or off-white in color. I am unsure whether my dream self saw it or merely imagined they did. It could also be the case it was indeed a purer, milkier white, but was tinged by the Grey of Dreams *I believe its origin is inside walls, where it is extracted by those that know about it (perhaps people with a musine affinity?) and wrap it in kitchen foil *it has utilitarian purposes but I am unsure as to what those might be *despite describing it as being soft and deforming like soft wax, i don’t believe it to have a waxy skin-feel, nor to have such a low melting point *I had the impression of an organic substance but merely the impression
mysteries and questions about mouse milk:
*is its name merely reflective of its location and color, or does it have a more explicit connection to mice, or to milk? *what is it used for? *what is its true origin? *what is its true nature/composition?
“Girls want a Superman, but they walk past a Clark Kent every day”
You fuckin CLOWNS think you’re a CLARK KENT? Not on my fuckin watch. You dumb, headass motherfuckers are barely a Guy Gardner and you think you’re a CLARK KENT? The amount of disrespect is unreal.
Listen here, wannabes: My boi Clark is 240 lbs of PURE KANSAS BEEF trained from a young age by Ma Kent to Love and Respect women as the Intelligent, Independent beings they are. He is shy rambling about tractors and casually moving the copy machine when my pen falls behind it and he would NEVER demand I be sexually or romantically interested just because he’s nice.
Y’all ain’t Clark Kent.
I have never hit the reblog button so damn fast.
“barely a Guy Gardner” is the sickest comics related burn I’ve heard to date.
The Chaos Bitches 